Aftermath: MCSM Fanfic
by LeopardHeart104
Summary: A boy wakes up in a room he doesn't recognize, with dreams in his mind filled with people screaming in terror, running from an unknown monster, and two people he doesn't recognize. But that's not the main problem for him right now. The main problem is that he can't remember anything at all. Not even his own name. (MCSM AU)
1. Chapter 1

_Screams of terror._

_Cries of Fear._

_A man standing on a stage with a crowd watching behind him, his fists clenched, his eyes ablaze with fury._

_Confusion._

_Desperation._

_Trying to find a way out._

_Dozens, hundreds of people trapped in the belly of the beast, eyes hollow, almost dead, with dark veins running through their skin, withering them away._

_Trying to escape._

_To run away._

_To find a way to outthink a foe that couldn't._

_To fight against the world's biggest threat._

_A boy with his arms raised above his head, the handle of a sword clutched in each hand, trembling slightly, his eyes full of rage as he furiously struck down at something below him._

_Trying to find peace again._

_To stop the monster._

_To stop the storm._

* * *

The boy was startled awake, his eyelids flew open as he sat upright, fear surging through his veins. He breathed heavily as he tightly clutched the blankets that were covering him just moments before. His eyes briefly darted around the dark room, as if he was afraid that something would come crawling out from the shadows to drag him away. His limbs relaxed a bit as he saw nothing, though he still remained a bit tense.

Just a dream.

Or a nightmare.

He wasn't exactly sure.

… Wait.

He blinked a few times before glancing around the room again in confusion.

Where was he?

He had no memory of the room he was in, nor the bed that he was sleeping in, and he didn't have any memory of anything before he'd fallen asleep. To be honest, he didn't seem to have any memory _at all_, but he'd deal with that later.

The room he was medium sized with stone brick, large enough so that he didn't consider it to be claustrophobic, but small enough so that his voice would echo off the walls if he spoke. A small window was placed across from the bed, the navy blue sky speckled with white dots outside told him that it was night. But it wasn't too dark, there being enough light so that the boy could see his hand and the rest of the room pretty clearly. Though, that was surprising since the only light source in the room was a small lantern placed on the dark oak wood nightstand beside the bed, giving off a soft, orange glow. There was also a matching dark oak table against one of the walls of the room with a tall bookshelf beside it containing several different books with several different authors.

Now that the boy had observed his surroundings to satisfy himself that he wasn't anywhere dangerous…

It was onto the "not remembering anything" problem.

But, before he could mentally address that problem, he felt a light pulse against his wrist, and he glanced down to find that something was glowing magenta beneath the dark blue blanket that covered him. He pulled the covers down with one hand to reveal that a black, thin rope bracelet was tied tightly around his left wrist, the charm attached to it being the source of the glowing. The charm was a pitch black colored star with four points and bright magenta lines that outlined a smaller version of the star in the center of the charm. The lines seemed to be the source of the glowing and the pulsing, giving off a magenta tint to the area around them.

The boy twisted and turned his wrist a bit to admire the smooth curves of the well-crafted charm that were perfectly carved from obsidian (a bit _too_ perfect, he observed, which gave him a small, spooked chill), before his head began to suddenly, painfully throb. The boy tensed and clutched his head with both of his hands, groaning with pain as images began to flash through his mind.

_A man standing on a stage with a crowd watching behind him, his fists clenched, his eyes ablaze with fury._

_A boy with his arms raised above his head, the handle of a sword clutched in each hand, trembling slightly, his eyes full of rage._

He felt confusion and shock join the pain in his pounding head.

They were the same things from his dream.

But, why would he have dreams and flashes of people in his head he didn't even recognize?

As the pain began to subside, an idea popped into his head.

Were those… his memories? Maybe, but he couldn't remember their names, or anything else about them. It also didn't explain why he would have memories of looking at crowds of terrified, screaming people from a birds-eyes view sort of vision.

The boy felt a small chill of terror creep down his spine as he remembered their screams, their cries for help, their desperate pleads…

"What's going on in here?"

The boy started at the sudden new voice entering the room, jumping back a bit as he heard the door creak open. As he shuffled himself back a bit so that his back pressed against the wall, his knees held up to his chest as he hugged them, he watched as someone entered the room, a potion in one hand and a book in the other.

He was tall and thin, his skin startling pale as if he hadn't seen the sun in decades. He wore a long, golden-greenish robe with a tie around his waist that held a dark blue gem as a belt buckle framed by gold. His hair was long, pitch black and shiny, reaching down to his shoulders and going over them a bit. His hair also looked like it needed a good brushing that was long overdue, and his eyes were dark blue and matched the jewel on his belt, with a somewhat irritated tint to them. He looked as though he had a slight permanent scowl on his face, his jaw slightly clenched and the corners of his mouth turned downwards in a bit of a frown. It wasn't even that deep of a frown, but it still made the boy shift his legs and hands rather uncomfortably.

When the boy didn't answer the man's question, his face twitched into a firmer scowl and he repeated sharply, "Well, spit it out. I'm not wasting my potions if you don't have a scratch on you."

It was at that moment that the boy's eyes widen as he took in the mans features a bit more, completely ignoring his question again as a realization came into his mind.

It was the man from his dream.

Not the younger one with the sword and armor, but the older one who looked like a malnourished, half-shaved cat.

The boy forced bus shaking limbs to settle as shock shot through him. "W-What are you doing here?" He asked the man, trying to prevent a tremor from entering his tone.

The man raised one of his eyebrows, a startled, confused, and still slightly irritated glint flashed in his eyes, "What are you talking about? And why do you look like you've seen a ghast?"

"I _saw _you!"

"Is that supposed to be concerning?" The man deadpanned. He seemed rather unsurprised.

"I-I was standing in front of you!" The boy exclaimed as the man knelt down by the bed and began digging through his inventory, And there were a bunch of people behind you, I think you were on a stage or something…" As the boy explained his vision, the man's eyes gradually grew wider. He didn't seem to be completely unconcerned anymore.

"You were in front of me? And there were people behind me…?"

"Yeah, and there was this other guy. He had brown hair, he was pretty short, and he was really armored. He had this weird diamond sword too…" As the boy began to describe his dream and the different things he had seen, the man's eyes steadily became wider and wider, until his dark blue irises were almost completely drowned by the white around his eyes.

"That's impossible… You must have… It can't… Never mind." The man briskly brushed the question aside, almost too evasively, "Is that why you're hurting? Because you're seeing these… Things?"

The boy thought for a moment. When the visions started to pop into his head, he felt his forehead pounding wildly, and painfully. Maybe that was what caused it?

"Yeah, maybe." He decided, "My head started to hurt when I had them."

"Well, just take this." The man pulled a potion out of his pocket with a magenta colored liquid sloshing around inside, "Just drink from it whenever you start to have these 'headaches', and you should be fine."

"But, I feel like they might… I don't know, like they might mean something." The boy hesitated. Did the man think that he was crazy?

The man seemed hesitant about the subject as well, "We'll discuss that in the morning." He finally decided after an awkward silence that seemed longer than necessary, "There are other people that might be able to help with that. But for now, just get some sleep."

The boy was torn. His curiosity wanted him to protest and ask about what the man knew about his dreams. He clearly knew something, the boy could tell from how shocked he had acted when he had told him about his visions. But the tired aching in his limbs let him collapse back down onto the mattress as the man exited the room. He pulled the covers up to his chest and layed there silently, his eyelids closing, but his thoughts still in his mind.

He still had a thousand, maybe a million questions. But no one was there to answer them. Where was he? How did he get here? Why _was _he here? Why did he keep seeing that man? Who was the other one in his vision? Did the man know him? Why couldn't he remember anything before being in the room? What was the boy's name?-

The boy's eyes opened at the last question.

What was his name?

He didn't seem to remember having one. Maybe that had something to do with not being able to remember anything. As the question bugged his mind, his head began to pound again and the vision come coming again.

_People screaming, running. Away from the storm._

The boy groaned and he gripped his head with both of his hands. While doing so, the charm on his bracelet fell in front of his face and showed him the side that he hadn't examined. It was almost the same as the other side, except for one crucial detail. There was something carved into the black star, a word…

It read: _Storm._

Storm. Maybe that was his name.

Yeah, that sounded right.

Storm raised his left hand and let the star charm dangle in front of his face, watching it glow softly as he turned and examined every inch of it. When the star wasn't pulsing against his wrist and making his head feel like exploding, the feeling of it glowing against his hand felt oddly nice. Like a cat purring against his wrist. The feeling began to make Storm grow sleepy again, and his eyes slowly closed, until darkness was all around him. He still had a million questions that he wanted answered, but what he also wanted right now was to sleep.

It could wait until tomorrow morning. He hoped.

* * *

**A/N ~ Edit: Forgot to add an AN here! (also i added the part where he drinks the potion)**

**Now, I'm not going to reveal what this story is about... YET. I think you'll get the hint once we go down the chapters a bit more. But for now, just simply enjoy! (or font enjoy because my stories are crap)**


	2. Chapter 2

Storm sleepily blinked his eyes open as daylight shone through his eyelids, finding that the sun was forcing it's bright, golden rays through the window. The sky was now a bright periwinkle, showing the signs of late morning outside.

He sat up and stretched his arms out in front of him, as well as his legs underneath the blankets. He raised one hand to his face and rubbed the sleep out of both of his tired eyes. Once his eyes were used to the new light of what he assumed to be late morning, he rotated himself to the side so that his legs hung over the side of the bed and he hopped down onto the floor. He glanced around the room and a pile of fresh clothes caught his eye, neatly folded on the table next to the bookshelf. He walked over to the table and took the pitch black shirt on top into his hands and found a matching hoodie underneath, a pair of dark brown pants, and a pair of black and white shoes.

After changing into the clothes, since he assumed that they must have been for him, Storm decided to look about the room a bit, poking through all of the books on the shelf, but finding nothing interesting on it. He rummaged through a couple of the drawers that were crafted into the table and found a hand-held mirror, a hair band, a book, and a quill inside. Storm picked up the mirror and looked at himself in the reflection. His face was pale, but not as pale as the man who had given him the potion last night, and his hair was a similar black colors his, but not as shiny and ragged as his. His hair reached down a bit farther than his shoulders, just above the middle of his back, and it was suspiciously well brushed, not looking as though it needed to be tended to like the man's hair. Though, it was a bit too long for Storm's taste. He glanced down at the drawer and after gazing at the hair band for a few moments, he reached down into the drawer and grabbed it. After a minute or two struggling to get his hair in a bunch, he finally got the hair band to wrap around and trap his hair from the chin down into a ponytail. Storm looked into the mirror again and ran his fingers through the front of his hair, then through his thick ponytail. Now that his thick, black hair was under control it looked more appealing. He then looked down at himself and stuck one of his hands in the pocket of the hoodie. He placed the mirror back in the drawer, before glancing at the book and quill and taking them and placing them on the table. He opened the book to find that nothing had been written down yet inside. He pulled back the chair and sat down, taking the quill into his hand to write something down.

_Day 1,_

_I'm seeing things._

_I have no idea where I am._

_I can't remember anything._

_I have no idea what's going on._

Perfect. That was a pretty good summary of what Storm was feeling right now.

He closed the book and tucked it back into the drawer along with the quill and closed the drawer. He got up from the chair and pushed it back under the table. He walked over to the window and glanced outside. Through the glass, he saw a street filled with people carrying different supplies and blocks in their hands, rushing up and down the road, some talking or bickering with one another. On the opposite side of the road from the building Storm was in, he could see several houses and buildings, some looking as though they were half built, or maybe destroyed, Storm guessed. Were the people trying to rebuild them? What happened to them all? As he asked himself these questions, he felt the sharp, painful pounding in his head and pulsing in his wrist, making him gasp from the sudden surprise attack from the visions that came rushing to his head once again.

_People screaming in terror, running from the monster._

Storm decided to stop looking before people noticed him watching them and to rest for a second. He walked away from the window and sat down on the edge of the bed, using one hand to grip his head while he groaned painfully and used his other hand to grab the potion from the nightstand. He quickly lifted it up to his mouth and pressed it against his lips before tipping his head back and letting the sweet drink slip down his throat. The painfully throbbing in his forehead subsided along with the images flashing in his head as finished the last bit of the potion. He swallowed and then exhaled with frustration as he set the now empty bottle back on the nightstand.

_Why does this keep happening? _Storm wondered to himself as he stared across the room at the wall, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. The visisions and the violent headaches he kept receiving seem to be undoubtedly connected to one another at that point in time, so it wasn't as if Storm was going to let it slide by as if it didn't mean anything. Though, he thought that it would be helpful if he knew exactly what they meant in the first place.

_Maybe the people who brought me here will know, _When the man had given him the potion last night, he seemed to know something about Storm's visions, but if he did know, he refused to say what. It both confused and irked Storm. If the man knew something, why not just spill then and there?

Storm glanced towards the door as these thoughts and questions lingered in the back of his mind. After a few more moments of hesitation, he got up from the bed and approached the door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it before cautiously pulling it open, the door sounding an eerie _squeak_.

He stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him. On the outside of the door was a much larger room, maybe about two or three times as big as the room he was in. The walls were made of the same stone brick material that made the walls in the bedroom. The room was spacious, with a few tables, boxes, and bookshelves strewn about the room. Torches were perched on two walls so that they lined up symmetrically with each other, dimly glowing against the gray color of the walls. Though they weren't needed for lighting too much, since there were a few windows that let more of the morning rays from outside illuminate the inside. At the opposite end of the room was a pair of oak wood doors, one of the cracked open a bit, but not enough to reveal what was on the other side.

Storm slowly walked through the room to the doors, cautiously looking from left to right a few times. Once he reached the door, he pulled the door open that was cracked open a bit. He stepped through and found a much brighter room, causing his eyes to blink a bit to get used to the new light. It was large, much larger than either of the rooms he had been in. Part of the room was just flat, the floor made from the same stone bricks used to make the walls in the other rooms he had been in. But, at the end of the large room, the floor rose up to a higher level, almost like a stage, that held a few lines of pedestals made of quartz and gold with a short amount of stairs leading up to the stage-like space. On the very edge of the staircase, there were a few more of the pedestals, holding various special items, but one being suspiciously empty. On the main floor was a long, red carpet leading up to the stage, with the same quartz and gold pedestal on the right side of the carpet, all of them empty. On the left side, there was nothing too remarkable other than a few banners, but there was something akin to a shrine in the center of the wall, two clay pots with flowers inside each of them below a banner with a pattern of a pig's face on it amongst a light, cerulean blue background. It looked oddly out of place from everything else in the room, giving off a strange aura, a feeling that it should be respected and grieved for.

Storm walked amongst the room, examining a few things on the towering walls before climbing up the stairs to the upper stage area. He gravitated towards the items on the pedestals and his eyes roamed over them, coming to a stop at the empty one he had seen. He suddenly felt the sharp, familiar pulse in his wrist again, but much sharper than before, causing Storm to let out a surprised, pained hiss through his teeth as he gripped his wrist with his other hand. The pounding in his forehead began to start again as the visions flashed through his mind faster than Storm could keep track off, his hand constantly switching between gripping his fist and his head. His legs began to feel weak and he staggered a bit, catching himself on one of the pedestals. The golden apple that had been the item for the pedestals was knocked off from the sudden force of Storm's hand gripping the edge of the pedestal, falling to the floor before rolling along the red carpet a bit.

Storm guessed that someone must have heard the commotion along with the noise he was making, because a few moments later he heard footsteps coming from another hallway entry at the opposite end of the room from where Storm entered. The doors to the hallway suddenly flinged open and three figures came rushing through. One of them was the man from the night before, another was an unfamiliar redhead with a bandana covering most of her fiery hair, and the third was a figure that Storm definitely found familiar. If he wasn't in so much pain at the moment in time, his eyes would have widened from shock and surprise.

It was the other boy from his dream. Not the older one, but the younger. His skin was a dark tannish-brown, and his hair black, complimenting his skin tone quite nicely. His eyes were a bright green that was so piercing that it completely stood out from the rest of the boy's face. He was wearing a black and gray shirt with a pair of green-strapped suspenders. His face was alarmed, his eyes briefly farting around before falling upon Storm. His eyes widened in shock until his green pupils were like small leaves against the white of his eyes. He quickly rushed to the stage and up the stairs to Storm, the redhead and the man following close behind. Once the boy reached him, he quickly, but gently placed a hand on Storm's shoulder to steady him. "Hey! What's going on? Are you okay?"

The redhead stood next to the boy and looked down at Storm with cautious, but not unkind eyes. "Isn't that the kid you guys found?" She asked the boy in a low whisper, seeming to be unaware of the fact that Storm could hear her.

"Yes," The man from before answered for the boy on his other side, looking at the boy with an odd, irritated looking sort of concern, "I knew I should have kept a closer eye on him." Storm noticed how the corners of the redhead's mouth twitched a bit, threatening to curve downward into a frown as though she were annoyed with the man. But if she truly was, she gave no further sign of it.

Storm, shook his head a bit and took a few deep breaths, feeling the pulsing and pounding in his head beginning to calm down as he did so. "I think…" Storm's chest heaved a bit as breathed heavily though his sentence, "I think I'm… okay.."

The boy didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?" He asked with a look that looked more like normal concern than the look the man was giving him at the moment, which was darkly clouded with something like curiosity, "Are you sure you don't need a healing potion, or something? Ivor told me he gave you one last night."

"Yeah.. he did.." Storm replied, assuming that the man was the 'Ivor' that the boy was referencing, "I might have… drank it all…"

Ivor's eyes widened a bit at Storm's statement, "You finished it already?"

"Yeah… I finished it off this morning."

Ivor sighed, curling his index finger and thumb against one another and pressing them to his forehead in a frustrated matter, "I suppose I'll have to make more if you're still feeling like this…" He began muttering a list of something to himself that Storm couldn't, and wouldn't be bothered, to understand.

The boy's eyebrows furrowed a bit concern, before he suddenly shook his head and let out a laugh. "Oh, right! You probably have no idea what's going on right now, do you?" He scratched the back of his neck a bit as a slightly sheepish smile spread over his tan face.

Storm shook his head in response and stated bluntly, "Not in the slightest."

"Well, introductions are a must then. I'm Jesse, and you've already met Ivor," Jesse spread one arm out a little to gesture to the man, snapping him from his muttering. Ivor have Storm a small grunt that was welcome enough before he returned to his ingredient listing.

"And this is Petra," Jesse smiled at the redhead on his other side. The redhead placed one hand on her hip and smiled energetically at Storm,a smile more welcoming than Ivor's gesture, and held out her hand for Storm to presumably shake.

Storm tried his best to give a smile back with a somewhat equal amount of cheerfulness as he took her hand and shook it. After shaking the redhead's hand, he pulled it away and let his eyes travel from each person to the next.

"Now… what the heck is going on here?"


End file.
